Hot Shooter
by Latebloomnriter
Summary: This follow up to "Undercover McCormick" answers the question: Is Mark McCormick adept or inept with firearms?


Hot Shooter

This follow up to "Undercover McCormick" answers the question: Is Mark McCormick adept or inept with firearms?

Note: To the best of my knowledge and belief, this story is fair use of copyrighted material, as there is no commercial use and no loss of potential market or value of the original material will occur.

Rated T for some adult themes.

"All right," announced Hardcastle. "I know you're good at target practice with a handgun. I read the reports of some of the cops though, about your shooting at that party. Now, I realize that you were in a tight spot, working undercover like that, and it's okay that you were nervous. I understand. But, now that we know you have trouble hitting a target when you're under pressure, we can work to fix it." He sniffed and looked expectantly at McCormick.

" _Juuuudge,"_ moaned the captive audience. "I just missed those cans."

"Listen, it doesn't matter that you just missed them. They were at point blank range and you need to do better."

"Judge," Mark responded again. This time there was no whine. "You're not listening. I _just_ missed _all_ of the cans." He grinned at Hardcastle.

The Judge noted the tone and the familiar smirk. "Are you telling me that you deliberately missed? You meant to not hit any of them?"

"I hit exactly what I aimed at: just above the lid."

"Why?"

The smirk faded and Mark became serious. Hardcastle watched him closely, sensing that there was much more to the story.

"I'll tell you, but you won't like it." Hardcastle motioned him to continue. "The truth is, some-not all of them, but some of the cops reminded of the guys in Quentin."

"Well, cops and guards are both law enforcement-"

"No, Judge. I mean the inmates." Mark waited a couple of seconds for this to sink in. "Even the locker room, with hazing the new guy, the crowd of men, the smell, it was like prison. See, the first thing a guy has to do in prison is to figure out his place in the pecking order, and you have to do it fast if you want to avoid getting a shiv in you or raped in the shower. You have to learn right off who the top guys, the king rats, are and not to cross them or be seen as a threat. There are a couple of ways to do that: one, you have to offer something worth more than your being dead or someone's toy. I made book, got them good payoffs on their wagers. The other way was to get them laughing. A funny guy eases the hard times of being inside. I did both of those things, so I wasn't a threat, but useful, and managed to survive. The cops like Dawson and Peeples reminded me of the guys I had to avoid. So I fumbled my shots, and they saw me as a guy not to worry about."

They were both silent, reflecting on this. "I never did ask. How'd you learn to shoot so well?"

"I had this friend growing up, Bill Bauer. He was another foster care kid, like me-different house, but same situation. Bauer was something else, even then. If you think I can cause trouble, or get out of trouble, you should have seen Bauer. He taught me a lot of what I know."

"What happened to him?"

Mark paused, hesitant to bring up another unpleasant reminder for both of them. "MIA."

They sat in silence for a few moments, before Mark collected himself and resumed the story. "Anyway, Bauer got a hold of some handguns, and we'd find an empty lot and start shooting the cans or other trash."

"Didn't anyone complain?"

"Not in that neighborhood. Like I was saying, we'd start shooting at the cans, and keep them hopping for as long as we could. Like that scene with Matt and Cherry in _Red River._ I liked Cherry. He had a lot of great lines in that movie."

"Yeah, he did. Ya know, when Bucky Miller was young, he looked a lot like Cherry."

Hardcastle thought a minute. "Okay, you're good with handguns. Now, sometimes we have to use something else, so you probably should learn to use a shotgun-What is it now, wise guy? You're smirking like you just sunk the winning shot from behind the three point line."

"Judge, when I thought you were dead in Clarence, I took out both lights on top of the sheriff's cruiser from 40 yards uphill with a pump action."

"What?! When Kathy Kasternack asked for that side-by-side, your jaw was on the floor!"

"Kathy," said Mark appreciatively, "had hidden depths. I know what a side-by-side is, but it took me off guard that _she_ knew. I wasn't sure I heard right."

They were silent again, thinking about the girl from accounting. Hardcastle had high hopes that she would be good for McCormick, and urged his friend to go slowly with her. Mark had taken it a little too much to heart, and was so slow and careful that he buried much of natural boisterousness and quick temper, letting his pent-up energy and emotion simmer inside. When he finally erupted into a loud arm-waving argument with Hardcastle-not even a particularly bad one, really- Kathy was taken aback. She used her orderly accountant's mind to tally the pluses and minuses of a relationship with McCormick, calculated a net deficit, and ended the relationship as anything other than friendship. Hardcastle had prepared to endure and console McCormick through another session of brooding over the breakup, but the kid had bounced back quickly, seemingly relieved to resume his normal personality.

"Well, I know you used an automatic weapon in San Rio Blanco. Now that I think about it, you had an automatic weapon when Kathy had the shotgun. How did you learn to use all these?"

"I learned about the long guns in Florida. I was working for a repo man, and he wanted his people to carry guns and be ready to use them if we got into a tight spot. And there were tight spots. Enough to choke you if you weren't careful."

"Sounds like you didn't just use them. You spent a fair amount of time practicing."

"Well," Mark said softly. "I was good at it. There weren't many things I was good at, except cars and driving. I had a good eye and focus from that." His voice dropped even lower, and Hardcastle had to concentrate to hear him. "I liked doing something I could do well, because it didn't seem there was much else I'd ever be good at."

"You're good at doing a lot of things, or could be, if you wanted to." Hardcastle kept his voice quiet too. He hated seeing the kid so down on himself.

He brightened up and slapped his thighs. "Say! What we should do is go to a sporting clay range. Huh? It will be under my supervision so there won't be trouble with the parole board. We'll knock off a few pigeons, take some rabbits too-"

"Sorry Hardcase, but unless you mean to make an awesome stew, wasting wascally wabbits is not my idea of fun."

"Well I didn't mean _living_ rabbits. A clay pigeon that rolls and bounces on the ground, instead of being fired off into the air, is called a rabbit. How about it? We'll go for twenty."

"I don't want to take your money over this."

"Are you serious?!"

"No, I lied. I'll be glad to take your money."

They grinned at each other in anticipation of the latest competition. Hardcastle was certain he already had his victory. He would see some clay pigeons shattered, and some confidence re-built.

Trivia: Actor John Ireland played Bucky Miller in "The Homecoming" and the charismatic gunslinger Cherry in the John Wayne film _Red River_.


End file.
